


Rhythm

by ArchangelUnmei



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dubious Consent, Kink Meme, M/M, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-02
Updated: 2010-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-11 10:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelUnmei/pseuds/ArchangelUnmei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roderich has a secret hobby. Gilbert stumbles across it completely by accident, and decides to take advantage of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhythm

It wasn't that he _only_ enjoyed classical music. That's just what he was most known for. He'd come upon classical music first, long long ago, and it would probably always be his favorite. But the truth was, Roderich loved _all_ music.

Even the hard, gritty music that Arthur called 'rock', even the sugar-candy pop that Kiku loved, even Alfred's latest 'brilliant' accomplishment: rap. Roderich couldn't help but be drawn to the music, swept away and lost in it. Classical music was easy; he caressed the piano like a lover, letting the music slide through his fingers, and it was no wonder the other Nations joked that Elizaveta had divorced him because he was cheating on her with the piano.

With other styles of music, it wasn't so easy. The music would pour into him, fill him up until he thought he might burst with it, and he had to do something to let it out. He would dance, then, or at least move, hips swaying and head nodding in time to the music. But he would only dance when no one was around. After all, he had a reputation to keep.

So instead, he snuck out at night when no one could see.

~*~

Usually Gilbert hated drinking alone. Ludwig had bailed on him at the last minute, the bastard, but Gilbert was too keyed up and decided he would go bar-hopping alone. Maybe he could pick up some cute little girl for the night, and thus no longer be drinking alone.

He'd never been in this particular club before, and he looked around in interest as he threaded his way through the crowds to the bar. It seemed like a typical night club, with lots of strobe lights, a bar with a DJ's stage beside it, and lots of people in leather. The music at the moment was some sort of European techno-pop. Kinda catchy, if you liked that sort of thing.

As he leaned against the bar and waited for the overworked barkeep to notice him, Gilbert glanced over at the DJ. He didn't pay much attention to the man beyond the fact that he was nice-looking. At least, not until a few minor details filtered deeper into his brain, and then Gilbert's eyes snapped back to him. No glasses, but there was that ridiculous curl of hair, and if he squinted in the low light, Gilbert thought he could make out that distinctive beauty mark near his mouth.

Gilbert frowned, drumming his fingers on the bar. There was no way that was Roderich. It had to be an evil twin, or possibly a clone (or aliens, if you could believe Alfred, which Gilbert usually didn't). Still, physical similarities aside, the DJ was acting about as un-Roderich-like as possible. For one thing, he wasn't wearing a shirt, just a black leather vest held only loosely closed by a couple silver chains. For another, the DJ was being far too energetic, nodding his head and occasionally bouncing up out of his seat in time to the music, lips moving as he sang along, grinning and bright eyed and generally everything Roderich wasn't. As he moved, the vest gaped open, every now and then showing a glimpse of nipple against a pale chest. Gilbert felt a stirring of interest in his groin, whether that was Roderich or not.

The current song ended, and Gilbert's eyes narrowed as the DJ bounced up out of his seat, interacting with the crowd a bit as he switched over to the next song, announcing he'd be going on break for a few minutes. And the voice certainly _sounded_ quite a bit like Roderich's.

Gilbert began pushing his way through the crowd, trying to get to the employees only door set in the wall between the bar and the DJ stand. He made it just as the DJ stepped off the stage, and Gilbert reached out and grabbed his arm. The DJ turned to look at him in surprise, and Gilbert smirked at the look of shocked recognition. "So it _is_ you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Roderich said stiffly, trying to pull his arm away. Gilbert just tightened his grip, satisfied to see Roderich wince, and reached to open the employees' door with his other hand and shove Roderich through.

"Now now Roderich, aren't you happy to see me? I didn't know you had it in you. You're even wearing _leather_."

Roderich stiffened, apparently ready to revert back to his usual personality in the presence of someone who knew him. "You-"

Gilbert reached out to grab him again, yanking him close as the door closed behind them, muting the noise of the club to a dull drone. "I _like_ it."

Roderich grunted and tried to lean back away from him, and Gilbert studied the other man for a moment. "You look good without glasses," he found himself saying, and Roderich stared at him in surprise. Gilbert smirked and took the opportunity to push Roderich back against the wall, pressing his body close against the other man's and rubbing their hips together teasingly. He was pleased to see Roderich's cheeks darken in a flush.

"Get off..." Roderich's hands came up to Gilbert's shoulders, but he never quite got around to trying to push him away as Gilbert ground his hips against him again. Roderich gasped, head falling back a bit, and Gilbert took the opportunity to attack that pale neck with his teeth. Roderich grunted again, trying to push him away this time. "I said get _off_!"

"I plan on it," Gilbert smirked, one hand settling under the vest to palm his nipple. "Just not in the way you mean." He paused, pretending to ponder something as Roderich scowled at him. "I wonder if Elizaveta knows about your little hobby..."

"That's blackmail," Roderich growled.

Gilbert just smirked at him, shoving his knee between Roderich's thighs to press against him more firmly. "It's working, isn't it? And your body certainly seems to be enjoying it." He licked his lips, savoring Roderich's scowl, the high flush of his cheeks. It was so much easier to appreciate his expressions without his glasses, Gilbert made a mental note to do away with them more often. He leaned closer, lips brushing Roderich's ear. "You were having fun, weren't you? You were honestly having _fun_. I didn't know it was possible for you to enjoy anything that didn't involve a piano." _Or sex on a piano_, he mentally added.

"Shut up," Roderich gasped, pushing at his shoulders again, but Gilbert had him firmly pinned. "You don't know anything-"

"The hell I don't," Gilbert shifted, pressing his hips more firmly against Roderich's and savoring his groan. "We've all got hobbies and things we enjoy, Roddy. Nice to know you're as human as the rest of us."

"_What_ did you just-?!" Roderich yelped, but didn't get a chance to finish as Gilbert kissed him hard, hand migrating from Roderich's hip to his ass. He groaned into the kiss, hands tightening on Gilbert's shoulders as his hips bucked entirely of their own accord. Gilbert shoved him more firmly back against the wall, not letting him break the kiss as his hands deftly began unfastening Roderich's pants.

Roderich gasped when the kiss finally broke for air, arching up into his hands. "Let me go, you buffoon-!"

Gilbert blinked, pausing for a moment in fascination. "Did you just try to insult me by calling me a musical instrument?"

Roderich scowled at him, cheeks pink and lips slightly swollen from the rough kisses. "That's a _bassoon_, you-!" He was cut off by a gasp once again as Gilbert finally managed to get a hand down his pants.

"Eh, not like I'd take offense anyway," Gilbert kissed along his jaw, pausing to nip at the soft skin under his ear and making Roderich groan. The hallway at the back of a night club wasn't exactly the best place for a sexy tryst, but Gilbert had made do with worse. He shifted again, unfastening his pants one-handed since his other hand was still otherwise occupied. At least Roderich didn't seem inclined to try and escape anymore, if the way he was gripping Gilbert's shoulders was any indication. The trick, Gilbert thought idly, was to get him to stop thinking about just exactly what he was doing and who he was doing it with.

In a fluid motion, Gilbert stepped back and hooked a foot around Roderich's ankles, shoving him sideways. He tripped over and hit the ground with a startled yelp, pants around his thighs. But before he had a chance to raise himself to more than his hands and knees, Gilbert had dropped down behind him and was leaning over his back, one arm wrapping firmly around his chest to hold Roderich against him.

"Let me go," Roderich gasped again, breathless, palms and knees still stinging from their sudden meeting with the floor.

Gilbert hummed a bit, shifting into a better position. Roderich should at least be grateful he'd spared a moment to spit-lube himself, though mostly that was because chafing was painful no matter which position you were playing. "No, Roddy, I don't think I will."

There was music in this too, Roderich thought distantly. Or at least a rhythm. Back and forth, up and down, in and out. His own groans, and Gilbert panting in his ear, blending into a strange kind of harmony. With the hum of the club in the background, it was just another kind of music.

Almost, almost beautiful.

Roderich groaned and closed his eyes, and let it wash over him.


End file.
